You Caused It
by ThousandpercentDone
Summary: Blaine is having a panic attack. Nobody really notices, maybe because he's really good at hiding it, maybe because they didn't think that shushing the teenager when he spoke would have such a powerful effect on him. But for Blaine's memories to erupt, it's the perfect trigger.


**A/N: An idea I got for a one shot shortly after watching 'Shooting star'.**  
**Kind of a guess as if to why Blaine was so quiet after everybody shushed him, and to why he didn't make a video. My imagination tends to race. **

**The title is from the song 'Youth' by Daughter.**

**tumblr: Imhjordis . tumblr . com**

**Please, feel free to leave prompts for me there!**

**Summary: **  
**Blaine is having a panic attack. Nobody really notices, maybe because he's really good at hiding it, maybe because they didn't think that shushing the teenager when he spoke would have such a powerful effect on him. But for Blaine's memories to erupt, it's the perfect trigger.**

**Set during the 'shooting' in 'Shooting Star.'**

**Warnings: mild violence (not explicit), panic attack. Spoilers from episode 'Shooting star."**

* * *

_**BANG**_

A gunshot. A scream.

_**BANG**_

Another one. The sound of feet rushing towards the exit in the hallway.  
"Hide!" Mr Schue hisses.

_Block the door. Keep them safe._

Blaine tries to push to big, black piano towards the already shut door, but it's heavy. The metronome falls off, smashing noisily against the tile floor.

_It's useless. You can't move it by yourself._

Frantically, he looks around the room for a place to hide himself. _Don't panic._Then he notices Artie.

Artie, who is in a wheelchair. Artie, who, because of that, can't hide properly. Artie, who's panicking, looking like he's on the edge of a breakdown, trying to lift himself of his chair and onto the floor, and failing.

_He needs help._

Blaine rushes to him, hearing the other boy's silent and obtuse exhale of brief relief, his quiet '_thank you', _as he lifts him from his chair onto the floor, to the safe hiding space behind the piano.

Someone turned off the lights. Everyone is sitting down. Blaine is the last one standing, he notices, and quickly seats himself, back slumped against the piano, head pointed towards Artie, knees curled into his chest. He can feel his heart beating rapidly and out of rhythm in there.

_Stay focused. Keep your head cold. Keep the others safe._

"Are we even sure those were gunshots-"

His question is greeted with a choir of shushes. Hisses. People, turning their angry gazes at him, widening their eyes, shaking their heads with those_terrified looks in their eyes-_

_It was your fault._

He feels his heart pounding faster in his chest, dunking loudly in his ears, drowning out everything else. His sight is turning blurry, he can't see clear. Memories are overflowing him, infiltrating his mind.

If it was anyone else, they would've probably just forgotten about it. It was an honest mistake.  
To anyone else, it wouldn't seem as if the world had turned against them, as if they were the stupidest person on earth. They wouldn't feel shocked, disgusted with themselves, so scared and guilty.  
But Blaine did.

_It was your fault._

His stomach clenches, all color drains from his face. He can't breathe properly.

_Not now, Blaine. Don't do this now. Please, they need you-_

No, they don't. He fucked it up. Couldn't even move that god damn piano. Had to crash that metronome, which is now by the way ticking loudly in the middle of the floor, where nobody can reach it.

_They will hear. The gunman will hear. If they didn't hear your little stunt before, or even your stupid burst, they'll definitely hear _that. _And they will shoot you. Everybody. And it'll be your fault._

He hides his face in his knees, trying to even out his unsteady breathing, but it's hard. The last thing they need right now is him having a panic attack because of some _stupid _memory-

"Okay, guys, _guys, _start tweeting, texting, anything-"

Blaine doesn't hear the rest of the sentence before he grabs his phone from his back pocket with shaking hands, several times missing the big, black button with his thumb. He doesn't really care what the rest was. He only has one thing in mind.

_Kurt._

The name lights across his screen along with the familiar number, and just the sight of those letters, _Kurt,_ calms Blaine down a little bit.

He hastily writes a message, knowing that it's full of grammatical errors and spelling mistakes, due to his shaking hands, but he doesn't care. He said what he needed to say, in case he doesn't he out of here.

_Of course you'll get out of here. God damn it Blaine, pull yourself together_.

"gunshotss in schol I love you im sorry" lights up his screen and he presses send with the hand that is not occupied digging into the bare skin on his arm. He tried to slow down his breathing, but without luck, so instead he presses his hand over his mouth. The others don't need to hear, they don't need to know. He's caused enough trouble already.

Somebody is running. In the hallway. The footsteps nears, someone grabs the handle to the locked door, trying to shake it open and he lets out a grunting noise of both surprise and terror. Someone else is crying. Marley?

They try the other door. It's locked, too. He hides his head, clenching his eyes shut as he hears the person leave hastily towards the exit.

But the metronome. The _metronome_.

The obnoxious ticking is filling his ears, steady and clear, reminding him of his failure. Reminding him of how stupid, how _foolish _he was.

He covers his ears with his sweaty palms, but it doesn't drown neither the ticking noise nor the memories and voices out one bit.

His eyes are closed. He's shaking. He knows that even if he opened his eyes, he wouldn't be able to see clear. Everything is quiet, _too quiet, _and he wants to say something, to move, to get those voice out of his head, but he_can't _because he'll ruin it, he'll ruin everything just like last time, he'll get them all killed, he'll-

"Britanny's all alone in the bathroom, she's all alone I have to go get her-"  
"Sam, sit down, _sit down!_"

Blaine's head jerks up as Sam half pushed, half willingly sits down defeatedly in front of him. Then with the help of Sam's words, he remembers, and the horrifying reality strikes him.

"Tina isn't here either."

His eyes are wide and glassy. He knows why Tina isn't there.  
Tina was in the library. Tina_ is_ in the library. Tina is still in the library because she was copying notes. Copying notes for _Blaine._

It was your fault.

Blaine hides his head again, as the powerful memory once again strikes, like a lightning bolt trying to escape his head, trying to destroy his skull, break through his skin and escape in a furious storm.

He grasps his heavily gelled hair, trying to hold on to it, pulling it, trying to feel _something else _than these horrible memories that are trying to take over his mind, threatening to break through any second_, threatening him_.

Everybody is quiet. Marley is crying. She should be _quiet._

Marley is talking, and someone else is, too, but Blaine can't hear what they're saying. The white noise in his head, the voices, it drowns everything out.

Suddenly, there's a lot of noise. _Loud._ Kitty is running across the room. Blaine startles, people whispers at her, hisses. Sam stands up, and Blaine's head finally snaps up, just in time to see Sam storming his way to the exit.

Blaine gets it. If it was Kurt out there, he would've gone, too.

There is noise. More noise than what's already inside his head. Sam is shouting. He's crying, too, and both Mr Schue and Coach Beiste is holding him, trying to calm him down. Blaine can't look. He hides himself away again, hiding his shaking hands in his hair.

It stops, eventually. Sam sits down again, still crying, and Blaine _would_comfort him, but he doesn't dare to move.

_You'll ruin it. They'll hear you._

He just stares emptily, distanced at the air in front of him. Something is clouding his vision. Maybe it's tears. He doesn't know.

Everybody's crying, but he's not, he realizes, and suddenly he feels an incredible need to. Just let go, just sob out all of his sorrow. His eyes are red and sore, but he's not crying, not really, not yet.

He focuses on the wall behind Artie, focuses on nothing, anything else than the memories. But that metronome.

_It was your fault._

He hears a 'beep', and turns his gaze to Artie, who's suddenly pointing the camera in his phone right at Blaine.

"Artie what are you doing?"

His voice is but a whisper, but he regrets talking immediately. He knows the others talk as well, but _he _shouldn't. He should shut up, he has caused enough trouble. He'll get them killed.

"If we don't get out of here, people need to see this."

Blaine swallows a lump, holding in the sob that is trying to escape his throat. He can't let it. It'll take control. He'll lose it. _  
_  
Instead, he closes his eyes, focusing on keeping focus. He _wants _to say something. But he can't. The blockade in his mind is not allowing him to. So he just hides his head instead, barely even listening to what Artie says next. Neither does he listen to the other voices that follows Artie's.

_Just stay focused. Or else you'll ruin it. Just like last time, just like Sadie Hawkins, when you _fucked up, _you'll fuck it up again-_

A phone is ringing. Inside the room. Someones phone is ringing from one of the empty chairs, clad with bags and jackets that were left behind in their rush to hide.

Blaine frantically looks to his side and realizes that it's Ryder fault. He's calling the phone.

But he can't talk.

He's panicking. Everybody is telling Ryder to turn off the phone, but he wont. Blaine _needs _him to. He _needs _people to be safe, _he _needs to be safe.

Instead he mouths "Turn off the phone, please," extensively to Ryder, frustrated as the other still doesn't.

He can't do this. There's too much noise. Everybody's hissing at Ryder, the phone is still ringing somewhere in the room, Marley's crying, Unique's crying, _everybody but him _is crying. He can't concentrate on keeping focus, everything is just white noise, blood covered concete-

He shuts his eyes tightly, trying not to lose control, but it's too late. The memory is already over him, drowning him in an ocean of emotions.

_They're hiding behind the dumpster._

Nothing but Jay's heavy breathing and Blaine's own is heard. He can't take it. It's way too quiet.

"Are they gone-" Blaine asks quietly, but Jay shushes him furiously and shoots him a glance that says 'be quiet now or be quiet forever.'

But he's so scared. He has never been this scared in his whole life. His bloody nose is running, and he sniffs, trying not to cry. Jay shushes him again, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Blaine, shut up. God damn it, I swear, if you start crying-"

Suddenly they can both hear footsteps. It's the jocks. They're close, and they're looking for

them.

He tries, he really does, but suddenly the sob that has been smothering him, trying to fight its way up through his throat, escapes his lips, and he immediately clasps both hands over his mouth.

Jay's eyes widen and he looks at Blaine in horror,

blame_, but it's too late. The Jocks heard him. And they're headed their way._

The next is just pain. That's not the worst.

Terrible, yes, but the worst part is when Blaine's eyes are open, and he sees Jay. He sees the other boy lying on the ground next to him, being kicked, punched, stepped on, knowing that it's his fault, knowing, that the blood creating a puddle for them both to lay in, wouldn't have been there if he could've just kept his damn mouth shut. Knowing that the screams and grunts that escape both himself but most importantly

Jay_, is his fault. All the pain. Everything._

Suddenly, he's in the hospital. He standing in front of a bed. Jay's bed, whose arm is in a sling. Thin legs are lying still under the cover, not moving, not even when Jay speaks.

"It was your fault, Blaine. This is your fault! If you would've just shut up like I told you to, this would've never happened! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be paralyzed in both my damn legs! It was your fault! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Blaine feels the hot tears stream down his face. He doesn't try to keep them in anymore, and a strangled sob escapes his lips. People are talking, whispering. He doesn't care.

He's trapped in his past. Trapped in that exact memory that he wishes nothing but to forget. Just _forget.  
_  
"ALL CLEAR!"

All clear. _All clear.  
_They're safe. They're all safe. Blaine should feel relieved, but he doesn't. Not yet.

As everyone else gathers in hugs, he just curls further into himself, trying to even out his breathing. He hears several others exhale, finally releasing the breath they didn't realize they were holding in.

_Breathe, Blaine. You're safe. You're not there._

Suddenly somebody pulls him to his feet, and he stumbles, but is caught in strong arms. Sam's arms. Sam, who is hugging him. Sam, who is here, who is safe, who is offering him his comfort.

Blaine accepts it.

He lets Sam hug him tightly, enjoying the others warmth as he sobs into his shoulder, clutching at the back of his tee shirt like it was his last lifeline. Sam does the same.

_You're not there. You're safe. You're with Sam.  
_  
Someone is forming a show circle. Why are they forming a show circle?  
Blaine joins despite his silent wonderings, as he gets pushed right into it, where he's kept on his feet by other hands, other arms, around his waist, supporting him,_ caring.  
_  
"I love you all. You guys were awesome."

Someone leaves the circle. Mr Schue? It was probably him. Blaine finally opens his eyes, and notices that someone turned on the lights. _Bright._  
The circle dissolves, and he finds himself stumbling to regain balance, as he grabs the nearest table, sitting down on it.

_Everyone's okay. You're okay. It's over now._

Shakily, he grabs his phone, typing in that only other number that he memorizes beside Kurt's and Cooper's, and dials. She answers on the second beep.

"Blaine? Oh god, Blaine, please tell me that you're okay-"

_Mom._

"Hey, mommy."

Suddenly he doesn't care that he's current vocabulary is like a five year old's. He doesn't care that his voice breaks at the last word, and that tears streams down his face as he continues to speak.  
Everyone's okay. Kurt is okay. _He _is okay.

It's all over._  
_

**This was actually somewhat hard to write. I had to watch the scenes over and over in order to get my observations and the conversation right. This episode really got to me, and watching it that many times was so scary.**

I really hope you liked it, though! It's my first attempt at a one shot. Please do tell if there's something I could fix or change, I would love to get you guys's inputs and opinions.


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